Page 2 of Rise
2
Natalia
I’m goingto get through this day.
For Mom.
For Vinny.
To have a chance to see Antonio and Father again in the future.
But if I'm going to survive today, if I'm going to survive at all, I need to think smart, make good decisions,and more than anything, I need to act.
Even if I'm terrified.
Even if one or two of these good decisions are a crime.
But like Father says to his men, sometimes doing a bad thing is the right thing because it's better than doing a worse thing.
Sometimes doing a bad thing saves lives.
This spot will have to do.
I slink out of the tiny space in the vehiclethat's kept me safe, warm, and undetected for close to five hours.
The tow truck driver's busy changing a customer's car tire at a gas station.
Vernon Gregory.
I know his name because I've heard it several times. And his wife is Marilyn. He has three kids, a boy and two girls, who he talks about with pride to every customer who will listen.
I've come to know Vernonbecause it's his sixth stop since I snuck into this little space and tucked myself away under his pile of work clothes. It wasn't sensible to leave while he tended to things during his other stops. It made more sense to me to bide my time, to have a sense of the risks around me, to be familiar with the lay of the land so I can make my exit at the right time.
Besides, all his other servicecalls out in the field were in places where it was either too easy for him to see me getting out of his vehicle, or too out in the open, or too far out in the middle of nowhere.
Waiting gave me the information I needed to come up with a plan that could work.
Like knowing this gas station was the best place to make an exit. It's a block from town, where I noticed an army surplusstore beside the diner where Vernon stopped for coffee. The bus station is around the corner. A public restroom is steps away. And there's enough foot traffic for me to blend in.
It’s also warmer down here in the valley. Patches of snow were long since replaced by grass as Vernon wound his way down from The Rocky Mountains. People around here are dressed in fall clothes, and every otherresident is wearing a cowboy hat, or something plaid, or sturdy leather cowboy boots. I’ll need to look like them if I want to get out of this town.
Sure, this gas station might have cameras mounted in all the right places to catch me getting out of the tow truck. But no one here knows or cares who I am or what I fled. This is my best shot.
Stretching out my legs, I run my fingersdown the back of my thighs, hoping the insistent tingling will stop so that walking won't be as uncomfortable. I keep my upper body low as I slide over the top of the passenger seat and take a set of the driver's coveralls. My gaze flicks across to his back as he works on the tire less than fifty feet away. He's still at it, so I turn the coveralls inside out, put it on over the rest of what I'mwearing, and fold up the arms and legs to avoid tripping over them when I leave.
Before I push the door open, I do the one thing I've been dreading since the thought of it came into my head.
My first justifiable, but bad deed.
My first crime.
Theft.
Reaching into the center console between the driver and passenger seats,I grab as many crumpled up bills as Ican hold on to.
Cash that some of Vernon's customers paid with.
Hard earned money.
